Beloved
by Nana
Summary: COMPLETE! A girl from the past comes looking for her beloved Mirokusama, but what does she want? A Miroku x Sango fic. Please read and review!
1. Prologue

Beloved  
  
by Nana  
  
  
  
Inu Yasha is absolutely the best manga there is! Unfortunately, it does not belong to me. Not Inu Yasha, nor Kagome, nor (sob!) Miroku and Sango-- they all belong to Rumiko Takahashi. This writer is merely borrowing. ^^  
  
***  
  
Prologue  
  
The cherry blossoms swayed gently in the spring breeze, sending showers of pale pink petals onto the green grass below. Some of them caught onto the dark hair of the girl passing by, causing her to stop.  
  
A few petals landed on her outstretched hand.  
  
So many memories…  
  
It had been around this time, two years ago, when the cherry blossoms were coming out, that he had entered her village and her life. And from then on, nothing was to be the same again.  
  
She closed her eyes, remembering his smiling face, his calm, violet eyes.  
  
He was kind. Probably the first person outside her family who was kind to her, and it had meant much that year, when she emerged the sole survivor of her clan--the legacy of a war-torn land.  
  
But how could he have left me alone like that?  
  
Abruptly, her hand clenched, crushing the petals.  
  
No, he could not be kind. Not when he could do a thing like that-- after she had asked him desperately not to leave her alone. It had been so difficult afterwards.  
  
For that he had to pay. No matter what it took, she had to find him.  
  
Her beloved Miroku-sama…  
  
***  
  
Gomen! This is really a ridiculously short prologue, but I promise to fix the other chapters really soon! 


	2. Under the Cherry Blossoms

Beloved  
  
by Nana  
  
Inu Yasha is absolutely the best manga there is! Unfortunately, it does not belong to me. Not Inu Yasha, nor Kagome, nor (sob!) Miroku and Sango-- they all belong to Rumiko Takahashi. This writer is merely borrowing. ^^  
  
***  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"Houshi-sama!" called Sango, exasperated. As usual, he was being deliberately obstinate  
  
Ahead of her, the young priest showed no sign of hearing; indeed, if anything else, he seemed to quicken his pace even more.  
  
Does he really think he's going to lose me so easily? Sango thought, angrily. Not a chance in hell!  
  
And with that, the fleet-footed taiji-a launched herself onto the grassy field that separated her from her companion.  
  
Sango,to begin with, was never fooled by the monk's tactics. She had seen through him the first time he had suggested splitting up to broaden their chance of finding shikon shards. Sango had known right away he was seeking an excuse to look for girls.  
  
What other reason was there? Surely, to effectively find Shikon shards, wouldn't it be better to be with Kagome-chan?  
  
Here they were, just fresh out of the forest for the first time in days and into a fairly crowded village. Although Sango was used to sleeping on ground even rougher than the forest had to offer and she did not mind eating anything that came from the woods, the chance of earning for the group some warm, clean futons for the night and good, hot food by extending her taiji-a services in a village was not unwelcome.  
  
And, of course, while they were at it, she and Kagome might as well take a look around and see if there was anything of interest in the busy bazaars that lined the bridges and the marketplace. She had already spotted some peddlers hawking some very nice bolts of cloth along the way.  
  
And here was the houshi, spoiling everything by running off the first chance he got. It annoyed Sango no end.  
  
Mou! Now where does he think he's going???  
  
They were nearing the outskirts of the village now. Before them, colored fields stretched out neatly like a patterned quilt, interrupted by the occasional patch of land with cherry blossoms in full bloom.  
  
Despite herself, Sango paused to admire the spring countryside. Tiny, pink petals were everywhere, drifting and spiraling in the wind. Above them, the sky was a bright blue bowl, without a single cloud in sight…  
  
Sango came out of her reverie to find Miroku making his way to the clump of sakura trees on the other end of some fields. Annoyance crept back into her as she stared at his straight back. What was he thinking of, coming to a place like this?  
  
He was acting as though this were his intention from the very beginning--to get away from it all instead of going off chasing girls!  
  
To get away from it all…  
  
Sango's eyes widened at the sudden impact of the thought.  
  
To get away…from them..?  
  
***  
  
Miroku paused when he reached the shade of the sakura trees, wondering why Sango hadn't caught up with him yet.  
  
He sighed in resignation, and turned back to find her staring at him in a peculiar way. She stood under the bright afternoon sun, and he had never seen her look so unsure before.  
  
"Sango…"  
  
She started at the sound of his voice.  
  
"Houshi-sama, gomenasai…I shouldn't be here," she said, hesitantly, suddenly feeling very foolish and wishing she had not come at all. She never realized that Miroku may want some private time of his own. She had frequently done this, disappearing to be alone with her thoughts--not that the houshi ever gave it any thought, judging from the way he kept popping up to keep her company. But in this case…  
  
"You'd want to be alone…maybe I should be going back," she mumbled, turning away.  
  
"Iya," he said. A part of him was startled at his own response. Hadn't he really wanted to be alone?  
  
"It's a full hour's walk back into the village," he said simply when Sango turned to him in surprise.  
  
And with that, the silent tension disappeared between them, as though it had never been. They sat in companionable silence under the dappled shade of the sakura, with Miroku leaning his head against the trunk.  
  
Sango sighed, trying to relax beside him. She tried hard to keep from glancing at his direction too often, and tried even harder to stop herself from asking him what he was thinking about. Although he was just a touch away, his thoughts were evidently elsewhere.  
  
Miroku watched as the petals from the cherry blossoms overhead continued to fall, wishing with all his might that he could forget the memory that had suddenly surfaced from nowhere to haunt him the past couple of days.  
  
The breeze had carried sakura petals too, that day when he said goodbye. The wind had whipped her dark hair back, revealing the scared, white face. She was crying…  
  
How was it, he found himself wondering, that these memories would come for no reason at all?  
  
A movement from his companion distracted him, and he turned just in time to see her turning her face away from him. Her gaze quickly shifted to her suddenly interesting hands. Miroku noted, with some surprise, that she was still wearing the small rosary bracelet he had given her in what seemed like such a long time ago. He could see the beads encircling her slim wrist as it came out of the sleeve of her yukata.  
  
"The weather is very nice…" he observed, breaking the silence at last.  
  
Sango made a sound of acquisence.  
  
"Wouldn't you have rather spent today with Kagome-sama and the others?" He found himself asking.  
  
Sango turned to look at him for a moment before shifting her gaze back to the fields before them. "No," she said. "Not really."  
  
He smiled, not saying anything. Indeed he did not know what to say to *that*. And he would not have known how to account for the fact that he was pleased with her response.  
  
***  
  
It was late afternoon when the girl got to the cherry blossoms.  
  
After all these years, she had found him. She could not believe it, but she had.  
  
She had caught sight of his purple robes from afar as he got up from where he was sitting under the sakura, and he had gone a considerable distance with his companion when she got to the tree.  
  
It was him, there was no mistaking it. Not when she had his image burned to her memory.  
  
He's not going to get away. Not again.  
  
Look at me…Miroku-sama…  
  
***  
  
Sango felt Miroku stop suddenly, as if startled. Curiously, she turned to look at him, but he was looking back at the cluster of cherry blossoms, and at the dim figure under one of them. 


	3. Kimiko

Beloved  
  
by Nana  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Kimiko  
  
Yep. This fanfic ain't dead yet. Reasons for the lapse of time between the chapters will be forthcoming as the story unfolds. Please bear with me. It's my first stab at horror. Imagine…!( This chapter contains spoilers for episodes 41-42 (Koharu).  
  
Disclaimer: Inu Yasha is absolutely the best manga there is! Unfortunately, it does not belong to me. Not Inu Yasha, nor Kagome, nor (sob!) Miroku and Sango--they all belong to Rumiko Takahashi. This writer is merely borrowing. ^^  
  
  
  
*******************  
  
Sango stared at the priest before following the direction of his gaze, and what she saw was enough to fill her with a familiar, unexplainable rage.  
  
Of course it was a girl, and of course she was beautiful. What else could make the houshi stop in his tracks like that?  
  
She watched as the girl came forward. She was, indeed, something to behold. Her long, long hair, reaching almost to her legs, was an unusual shade of dark brown, with tints of burnished copper where the setting sun kissed it. Her skin was fair and flawless, like fine-boned china. For some strange reason, Sango caught herself thinking if it were possible for this girl to break into a hundred pieces if she fell down, just like the rare porcelain dolls she had occasionally seen as they passed through rich households.  
  
The houshi had recovered from his surprise to meet the girl halfway. Sango thought with deep derision that, as usual, the priest had succumbed. Men are such fools…!  
  
She turned her head away as she saw the houshi clasp the girl's hands in a tight grip, as she heard his all-too-familiar exclamation of joyful surprise at having met an old acquaintance. Somehow, she could not bear the sight of the girl's glowing face--not when she knew the girl was being fooled, and that she was going to meet with disappointment soon enough.  
  
"Oho! But is that really what you're afraid of, Sango?" Whispered a voice inside her. "That the houshi's going to make a fool of this girl?"  
  
Sango frowned, annoyed at the thought. Of course that was the first thought that always sprang to her mind on the occasions when the houshi got too close to her, so…  
  
So…?  
  
She forgot about her train of thought as she stole a look back and was incensed to see that they were still talking, that the girl--the girl!-- was holding both the houshi's large hands in her small ones.  
  
Why that…! That…! Sango thought, fuming.  
  
She did not realize that her feet were carrying her over to them until she was standing beside the couple, glaring.  
  
And it was only then that Miroku suddenly seemed to remember she even existed.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, turning to her. "Sango, I'd like you to meet Kimiko-chan--a good friend of mine. We met a couple of years ago when I was passing through her village."  
  
"I bet she's a good friend of yours," thought Sango before she could stop herself, regarding him with slitted eyes.  
  
"Kimiko, this is Sango."  
  
That, without anything else attached to it.  
  
The girl murmured a vague hello, her huge eyes fixed on Sango with a mixture of wariness and curiosity in their depths…and something else.  
  
"Hi," said Sango shortly and turning back to the houshi, said in a very civil manner, "Isn't it about time we get back to the village? It's going to get dark soon."  
  
"Of course," said Miroku. "Kimiko-chan can stay with us for the night, then. She's new here--I doubt if she knows anybody."  
  
Sango stared at him, not sure what to make of that.  
  
The houshi had not been that generous--not even to Koharu. He had simply found her a place to stay in a village, and had insisted on leaving immediately even though it was nightfall had it not been for Inu Yasha.  
  
Sango could well remember the houshi's reasons. Had he not said he was going to make things more difficult for Koharu if he were to stay longer? Of course, he had to ruin the effect by throwing in the possibility of his making a mistake and suffering the consequences of getting the poor girl pregnant, but he had made his point.  
  
More than anyone in their group, he knew the danger of getting too attached to people. Sango had seen that in him soon enough.  
  
So why was he changing tactics where this girl was concerned?  
  
True, they couldn't possibly just leave her here. But then they weren't even sure if they'd be getting any accommodations at all in the village.  
  
Of course, it is courtesy, her polite side insisted. Unless…you don't want to be courteous to her, Sango…  
  
The thought disturbed her. Of course she had no reason to be rude to the girl. That was absurd! Why should she be?  
  
"Let's get going then," she said.  
  
She went ahead a couple of meters--far enough for them to be out of her range of vision, but not too far as to be out of earshot.  
  
"I'm so happy, Miroku-sama," the girl was saying. "Who would have thought that after all these years, we'll meet again like this?"  
  
The houshi made a sound of agreement.  
  
Ahead, Sango closed her eyes and sighed unhappily.  
  
Now wait a minute…unhappily? Her mind snapped. But Sango was too tired to try to wrestle with her thoughts just then.  
  
**********************  
  
"Sango! There's Sango!" called Shippou once he saw her come into view on the outskirts of the village.  
  
"Sango-chan! Where have you and Miroku-sama been?" Kagome asked once she was within hearing range.  
  
"Yeah," said a disgruntled Inu Yasha. "We should have just kept going and leave you guys here. There are no Shikon shards to be found anywhere, anyway."  
  
"But we did find someone who's willing to put us up for the night," added Kagome quickly.  
  
"We'll have to find an extra bed," said Sango dully. "Houshi-sama's got someone with him."  
  
Inu Yasha and Kagome gaped as the couple came into sight. Shippou blinked.  
  
Judging from the way the girl was clinging onto the priest's arm, Kagome could understand why Sango was looking the way she was.  
  
To her credit, though, the girl seemed profoundly embarrassed at the thought of staying with them for the night and had made profuse apologies, promising to make up for everything by helping to prepare dinner.  
  
And it was over dinner that they learned of her story.  
  
The Sengoku Jidai was, after all, a period where families were lost and loved ones torn apart by the various civil wars ravaging across the land. In Kimiko's case, it was no different.  
  
"Things were so difficult," she explained. "There were so many times when I wished I had the courage to end it all, but then Miroku-sama came along. He gave me a reason to continue on…"  
  
Miroku looked at her, his expression unreadable.  
  
"I was terribly lonely after he left," she said, shyly. "But then, new friends came along, the years went by quickly enough. And now…"  
  
She broke off, blushing.  
  
Inu Yasha stared at the girl, then at the monk, then at Sango before rolling his eyes.  
  
"Oy, Sango," he said softly after the girl left for the kitchens again.  
  
"Don't you say ONE word!" hissed Sango.  
  
That shut him up effectively.  
  
"Kimiko's had…a difficult life," explained Miroku as he met Kagome's inquiring gaze.  
  
"Why would you suppose she'd be following you around like that?" asked Inu Yasha, looking at Miroku narrowly. "You popped that question at her, didn't you?"  
  
Miroku stared at him with lidded eyes. "You'd think you'd know me by now, Inu Yasha," said the priest gravely.  
  
Taken by surprise, everybody leaned in to hear him continue.  
  
"Of course I did," said Miroku simply as he calmly took a sip of his tea.  
  
After they had recovered sufficiently to peel themselves off the floor, Kagome yelled, "That's it! Separate rooms!"  
  
"Please, Kagome-sama," said Miroku, hurt. "It's not like that."  
  
"Then how was it like?" growled Sango.  
  
"Nothing happened," insisted the houshi.  
  
"Right. Like we're supposed to believe that, huh?" Inu Yasha said, shaking his head.  
  
*********************  
  
"That sukebe houshi!" fumed Sango as she, Kagome and Shippou headed for their rooms.  
  
Their things had been settled in a corner of the room. On the center, three fluffy futons were already laid out.  
  
"Don't worry about him, Sango," advised Kagome gently.  
  
"I'm not worried about him," said Sango, almost snapping. "Sorry."  
  
Kagome gripped her shoulder comfortingly before moving to get her pajamas out from her huge traveling bag.  
  
"OOOOOH! What is this?" piped Shippou.  
  
The girls turned to see him inspecting a small, frayed straw doll.  
  
"Oh, Shippou," said Kagome, moving toward him. "Please don't touch Kimiko's things."  
  
Too late. Kimiko was already by the doorway.  
  
********************  
  
Weird, I know, but please give this a chance. It's definitely not voodoo! Well, maybe not…( 


	4. Her Bedtime Story

Beloved  
  
by Nana  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Her Bedtime Story  
  
Disclaimer: Inu Yasha is absolutely the best manga there is! Unfortunately, it does not belong to me. Not Inu Yasha, nor Kagome, nor (sob!) Miroku and Sango--they all belong to Rumiko Takahashi. This writer is merely borrowing. ^^  
  
Author's Note: The manga never mentioned if Sango was actually fond of playing with dolls when she was a child. The detail I have included here about Sango's childhood preference for toys, therefore, is just a personal opinion which did not stem from any fact, and I would very likely get blasted if Rumiko Takahashi will indeed bring this detail to light in future chapters of her excellent manga. At any rate, I do hope you will give this fic a chance. Please R&R ^^  
  
  
  
****************************  
  
Kimiko stood under the open doorway, her face in shadow as she regarded the frozen figures inside. The flame from the single lamp within the room flickered, casting shadows on her yukata, at the pale, pale hands on her sides, creating the curious illusion of movement.  
  
Sango and Kagome stared at her, trying to find something to say and finding they could not.  
  
To make matters worse, Shippou was so surprised when he turned and saw the silent girl that the doll fell from his hands, landing with a thud on the tatami matting covering the floor.  
  
"G--gomenasai," said Shippou, hastily picking up the doll and dusting it off, guiltily.  
  
Kimiko came forward slowly, a smile on her face. "So," she said. "You've met Suzuko."  
  
The atmosphere within the room relaxed with an almost audible sigh.  
  
"Suzuko?" Shippou asked.  
  
Kimiko knelt beside Shippou, pointing to the doll. "My ningyo," she said. "She's been my only friend these last few years…"  
  
Shippou handed her the doll, and watched her stroke its tattered, straw covered head.  
  
"She used to be pretty once, but straw dolls are so easily damaged," sighed Kimiko.  
  
"Well, why don't you get a new one?" Shippou asked.  
  
Kimiko stared at the tiny kitsune, and when she spoke, her voice had cooled by several degrees. "You cannot just discard friends like that."  
  
Shippou blinked.  
  
"What I mean is, why don't you have two?" Shippou said, starting to get uncomfortable.  
  
"Shippou," admonished Kagome, nudging him gently to the door. "Please go tell the others we'll meet them outside for breakfast tomorrow, okay?"  
  
"Okay!" Shippou said, getting up and bounding out to the corridor happily.  
  
"Shippou didn't mean anything by that," Kagome said.  
  
Kimiko continued to stroke the doll's head absently. "I know. He's just a child, after all," she said.  
  
"I got Suzuko after Miroku-sama left," she continued to nobody in particular. "I cannot imagine what I would have done without her."  
  
"I have dolls, too, back at home," said Kagome as she sat down to talk to Kimiko. "What about you, Sango?"  
  
Sango tore her gaze off Kimiko and considered the question.  
  
To be honest, she had no recollection of ever playing with dolls. As far back as she could remember, she had preferred playing with the toy weapons the women in her village had fashioned from youkai bones and cartilege for the children. Some of her earliest memories had involved sword play, but she could not remember bending down and cooing over a figure of straw or wood or cloth, a little girl playing at being mother someday.  
  
Sango shook her head and murmured a negative. As she continued to prepare for bed, she could feel Kimiko's gaze boring at the back of her head.  
  
Finally, Kagome cleared her throat and said, "So, Kimiko-chan, how did you meet Miroku-sama, exactly?"  
  
Kimiko smiled, her huge, dark eyes softening at the memory…  
  
*************************  
  
The girl sat huddled near the bank of the river, watching the clear waters and trembling.  
  
Several months had passed since her family and their home had been destroyed, and all through those months not a day had gone by that she did not head for this particular place beside the river to wish for death.  
  
How hard could it be…her mind whispered, staring at the calm waters and their cold depths.  
  
The river bank was filled with rocks--there was no problem in that aspect.  
  
And the river was so clear, so inviting.  
  
There was nothing in the village to hold her, no reason to go back. She would not be missed, and lately she had come to dread the stares she was starting to attract from some of the men.  
  
She felt so alone--so lonely, and so terribly afraid. The hunger she could withstand, but the horrible nights were something else.  
  
Because it was at night, as the evening shadows drew long, dark fingers to stretch across the land, that Kimiko had felt grabbing hands from an unseen assailant who had chanced upon her while she was making her way back to her hut. Clumsy, sweating hands that had brought her down, had tried to tear at her yukata. Drunken laughter had said it all.  
  
It was fortunate the man had been so drunk and his grip on her so unsteady that Kimiko had been able to throw him off and run away.  
  
Kimiko was growing up. There was no way the process could be reversed. There were ways, however, to end it.  
  
With that fixed firmly in her mind, she started toward the rocks.  
  
***************************  
  
Sango and Kagome stared at the girl, their eyes wide.  
  
"So…" Kagome said, faintly.  
  
"It's easy to talk about it now," said Kimiko calmly. "So many years had passed. But back then, I had only one thing in mind: I'd rather die than go through something like that again. I was afraid the man might have remembered--that he might try again. So I weighed myself down with the rocks, started for the river…"  
  
Her eyes became unfocused. "I was totally submerged, then I felt someone grab hold of me, pulling me back to shore. That was when I passed out. When I came to, I found--him."  
  
"So it was Miroku-sama who rescued you," said Kagome.  
  
"Hai."  
  
Could two years really have passed since the day she opened her eyes to find his handsome face looking down at her?  
  
She had come to to find someone wiping her face with a towel. "Oh good," he had said when he saw her open her eyes. "You're awake."  
  
She could even remember what she had said.  
  
"Am I dead yet?" She had asked.  
  
To which the houshi had laughed and said, "I'm afraid not."  
  
The houshi had come to the village for an exorcism, and had so happened been to the river for a bath.  
  
For the next few days, he had stayed with her, helped her with her recovery, seen to it that she ate properly.  
  
"He was the first man after my father who was actually kind to me," finished Kimiko, glowing.  
  
"You mean, he didn't…he never…?" Kagome ventured, not quite sure how to put her thoughts into words. She settled for gestures while Kimiko seemed politely uncomprehending.  
  
"Did he ever try to touch you?" cut in Sango impatiently.  
  
Kagome stared at her sudden vehemence.  
  
"Kami-sama", thought Sango, mortified, as she closed her eyes. "I didn't mean it THAT way!"  
  
What was happening to her?  
  
"You mean…oh!" Kimiko said, turning slightly pink. She did not appear at all offended.  
  
Before she could say anything, though, they heard the familiar chimes signalling an approaching shakujou. Sure enough, the priest soon came into view and paused by the open doorway. Shippou came in after him.  
  
"Sumimasen. I thought I could drop by before we settle in for the night," said Miroku to everyone, but his gaze was on Kimiko. "Come with me, Kimiko."  
  
Kimiko obeyed eagerly, rising quickly and following him out of the room.  
  
Sango restrained herself as she noted the familiar way the priest had put his hand on the girl's back. That casual gesture, with all its implicit intimacy, was enough to make her fume. And never mind why.  
  
Beats of silence as the remaining occupants of the room waited to make sure the couple had rounded the corner of the corridor. When they were sure they had gone a safe distance, Sango, Kagome and Shippou launched themselves onto the corridor in close pursuit.  
  
**********************  
  
Shakujou- Miroku's holy staff. 


	5. Ningyo

Beloved  
  
by  
  
Nana  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Ningyo  
  
*******************************  
  
Disclaimer and Author's Note: You all know who owns Sango/Miroku, Kagome/Inu Yasha and Shippou! Kimiko is just a product of the author's twisted imagination, while the whole thing about ningyo is based on a very interesting, ancient custom in Japan. Explanations and sources are at the bottom of the page.  
  
Dedication: This one goes to Kaerra, who very patiently beta-read and streamlined the muck that was the first draft of this chapter! Arigatou, Kaerra-chan!!!!  
  
*******************************  
  
"Where do they think they're going??" hissed Shippou as they quietly made their way through the long dark corridors of the house and finally out onto the road.  
  
Still, Miroku and Kimiko kept walking.  
  
They followed at a discrete distance, keeping to the trees and bushes along the way.  
  
"I think they're going to the fields," said Kagome.  
  
"At this late an hour?!" Sango was outraged. "What do they have to say out there that they can't say here?!"  
  
"Loads," said Inu Yasha laconically as he materialized next to them from out of nowhere.  
  
"Sshhh…!"  
  
"Well, you don't have to look at me that way! He's just going to say the usual stuff to get her to stay put and not follow us," said Inu Yasha irately as Sango continued to glare at him.  
  
"Sshhhh…!" admonished Kagome, furiously.  
  
"So why are you here eavesdropping with the rest of us?" demanded Sango.  
  
"Feh! It's not like I'm interested or anything," huffed Inu Yasha, crossing his arms and turning his head away with an arrogant toss of his white mane.  
  
Still he didn't move.  
  
"Look!" whispered Kagome. "They're stopping…"  
  
********************************  
  
Should all nights be so dark, so still, so damnably intent on giving the wrong sense of purpose? Miroku wondered as they left the house behind, the wide-open field where they had come from earlier coming into view.  
  
Above them, unhampered by clouds, the full moon was a bright orb, casting a clear, soft glow onto the slumbering land. Before them was the open grassland, and all around them nothing moved, except for the gentle breeze, bringing with it petals.  
  
The cherry blossoms had opened earlier during the week. Small, fragile and hapless, the sakura petals seemed to twist and drift how the wind saw fit.  
  
He stole a look at Kimiko, and saw the telltale flush on her cheeks.  
  
Apparently, the romantic situation was not lost on Kimiko, and Miroku fought back a sigh.  
  
At this hour, however hard he might try to find it, no distraction was forthcoming to postpone this interview. It was just his luck that nature was not on his side tonight. Perhaps he should have followed his first impulse and just wait until morning. But Shippou had said something interesting, and it had made him decide then and there that a conversation with Kimiko was in order.  
  
For a moment, Miroku let himself slip back.  
  
*******************************  
  
"Oy, Miroku!" said Inu Yasha, pacing around their room as Miroku sat on his haunches, spreading his futon in preparation for bed.  
  
Miroku knew what he was going to say. He invariably got the same lecture when situations like this arose.  
  
"You'd better think twice before you decide to bring the girl--"  
  
"Hai," said Miroku, wearily. Trust Inu Yasha to rub it in. Surely he must realize from past skirmishes that he, Miroku, would not think to bring these girls into harm's way by letting them tag along.  
  
Still…  
  
Look at me…Miroku-sama…  
  
He was sure he had heard that. Before he had even laid eyes on Kimiko, he had heard it clearly, as though somebody were whispering in his ear.  
  
But what was it? There was no youki behind it. Nothing. And yet it carried with it a force too irresistible to ignore.  
  
And then there was the girl, Kimiko. Two years had elapsed, and it seemed she had changed into an entirely different person.  
  
The girl he had pulled out of the waters had shown signs of becoming pretty one day, but who would have thought she would turn out like this? The gamine features had not held eyes as round and wide as the ones he was seeing now. There was none of the lustrous, dark tresses, none of the soft skin as white and fragile as porcelain.  
  
But then, Kimiko had been through one ordeal after another then. It was not improbable that she had found fair fortune along the way after he had gone. And it was certainly impossible to deny that she had grown up these past couple of years.  
  
Too pretty…too soon…as though she were an entirely new person…  
  
Miroku resolutely squashed the treacherous, impolite thought. There was nothing suspicious about running into an old friend, he said to himself.  
  
But how about an old friend whom you had bestowed grief upon?  
  
"Onegai…Miroku-sama, please take me with you!"  
  
He remembered her crying under the sakura as he said goodbye, the cherry blossom petals swirling between and around them. He had stayed with her the whole week until he was sure she was going to be all right. In exchange for his services to the town, he had made arrangements with one of the more affluent families to take her in.  
  
Already he had wasted too much time. He had to be on his way. But the site of this girl crying below the sakura blooms had pained him.  
  
But you never had any qualms about the other women you left behind. This is not the first, and probably not the last time you will have to do this…  
  
Perhaps it had been because they had shared the whole week together in each other's company. Kimiko had proven to be a well-bred and intelligent girl once she had overcome her initial shyness. She was a good cook, and she was capable of looking after herself when she got better. Once she was with a new family, perhaps she would finally be able to find happiness.  
  
And so with that, he had continued with the speech he had gradually shaped and perfected through the years: "As much as it pains me to leave you…so dangerous…am after a powerful youkai named Naraku…not sure if I can protect you…"  
  
Kimiko had stood there, dazed, the tears spilling. "I won't let you go…" she whispered, distinctly. "I WON'T!"  
  
With that, she had launched herself at him, her grip on his robes tight and desperate. "How can you do this to me? And after all your promises!" she sobbed. "You cannot say all those things without meaning them! After I've said yes to your proposal, why don't you fulfill it? WHY CAN'T YOU MAKE ME BEAR YOUR CHILD?!"  
  
Miroku had winced.  
  
The answer, in case she had wanted to know, was precisely this. Miroku had never really cared for tedious scenes, but there was no escaping it this time.  
  
He had let himself relax, allowed her to sob onto his shoulder until she was tired and no more tears were forthcoming. And then he had delivered a swift and effective blow onto her back.  
  
She had instantly fallen unconscious. When she awoke, she would not know what had happened, would not feel any pain. He had seen to it. He laid her down slowly, carefully on the base of the sakura tree and watched her for a moment as she slept.  
  
Forgive me, Kimiko…this is something of myself which I am not free to give to anyone…  
  
With that, he had departed without another look back.  
  
And now, after two years, she was under the same roof as the houshi. Never once did she mention the sad circumstances of their parting. She only appeared glad to have run into him again.  
  
He continued to make his futon, aware that Inu Yasha was staring at him suspiciously.  
  
"Inu Yasha, Miroku!" Shippou piped in as he entered. "Kagome said to tell you they'll see you tomorrow for breakfast."  
  
"Did you hear that, Miroku?" said Inu Yasha, throwing him a meaningful look. "Not later than breakfast then."  
  
"Can it not wait until AFTER breakfast?" Miroku said, starting to get annoyed. "We've still got some time afterward."  
  
But then, he was sure Inu Yasha never had a case of indigestion from worrying over matters such as these.  
  
"Well, why don't you just talk to her now to get things over and done with?" shot back Inu Yasha, impatiently.  
  
"Who're you talking about?" asked Shippou, curious. "Kimiko?"  
  
Then, surprisingly, Shippou lowered his head and asked, uneasily, "a-no…can I sleep here with you guys tonight?"  
  
Even Inu Yasha turned to stare at that one.  
  
"I--I think she's kinda mad at me for dropping her ningyo," said Shippou, twisting his small hands, guiltily. "I don't know why, but she's really very scary."  
  
"Ningyo?" Inu Yasha asked, his eyes wide. "You mean she carries one around? At her age?"  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
"You're right, Inu Yasha," said Miroku, standing up. "I think I'd better have that talk with her now."  
  
*************************  
  
And so here he was, a set of conjectures in his hand and a promise of ruining Kimiko's evening before he was through with her.  
  
As they turned to face each other in the moonlight, he felt a twinge of guilt as he looked into her large, emotion-filled eyes.  
  
"Kimiko…" he began.  
  
"Please, Miroku-sama…don't say anything first," said Kimiko, softly. "Let's stay this way for a while…onegai?"  
  
"So many things have happened these past two years," Miroku said, ignoring her request gently. "Fate is kind enough to give us this opportunity to meet again. Wouldn't it be better if we take full advantage of it?"  
  
Was it just his imagination, or did he hear a distinct "hmph!" from somewhere behind them? He resisted the impulse to look back.  
  
"That is true…"  
  
"You look well, Kimiko."  
  
She smiled, lowering her eyes and not saying anything.  
  
"I trust all went well after I left? How is the village head and his family?" Miroku asked politely.  
  
"I would not know, as I have been traveling for the past year," she said indifferently.  
  
So….  
  
"Looking for something?"  
  
The look she gave him was suddenly not as soft and adoring as before. After all this time, he could still find it in himself to ask.  
  
"I was looking for someone," she said, flatly. "He owed me something."  
  
Miroku closed his eyes. There was no use in prolonging this conversation. "A young girl, going out on her own with nobody to accompany her? Not a very wise move, don't you think?" he said.  
  
"I can take care of myself, as you've said over and over before." Kimiko's tone was changing fast, as the houshi had expected.  
  
"No companions?"  
  
"I…" she stopped, and regarded him with narrowed eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Miroku looked away. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure, either.  
  
Surprisingly enough she volunteered the information. "I suppose you mean Suzuko?" she said.  
  
"Suzuko?"  
  
"I guess you can say she's a friend," said Kimiko. "For one thing, she 's always with me, and she'll never think to leave me. Unlike some people."  
  
"Kimiko…"  
  
Kimiko stopped, drawing a shaky breath. "Gomenasai, Miroku-sama. I--I suppose you will be leaving tomorrow. You've led me this far out only to say goodbye. After all this time, is that the only thing you could think to say to me?" she asked sadly.  
  
"Gomenasai, Kimiko," he said. He meant it.  
  
Kimiko laughed, but it ended in a sob.  
  
"Don't bother," she said softly. With that, she turned and began to walk back to the direction of the house.  
  
***************************  
  
Kimiko slid the door to the darkened room open and found the others already in their futons.  
  
Quietly, she began to prepare for bed.  
  
Sango, Kagome and Shippou listened to her for a while, fighting to keep their breathing even. It had not been easy to dash back to the house ahead of Kimiko.  
  
Shippou whimpered softly and buried his head in Kagome's arms. Sango met Kagome's worried gaze, saw her put a finger between her lips.  
  
For the first time since they met, Sango actually felt sorry for the girl. She had never seen the houshi treat a girl, much less a friend, like that before. Something had not been right. That was not how Houshi-sama had said goodbye to Koharu.  
  
But then, they had seen worse. Wasn't he capable of leaving the group without even saying goodbye?  
  
Sango sighed quietly.  
  
There were just some aspects of the houshi that would always be a riddle-- as mysterious, and as much of a void, as the kaazana growing in his hand. There were so many questions hanging in the air, but none of them would be answered tonight.  
  
With that, Sango fell into uneasy sleep.  
  
***************************  
  
She had a curious dream.  
  
She was dreaming of her father, of one of the many outings they had, either to or from the village on some matters requiring his services as Taiji-ya. She could not have been more than eight years old then.  
  
They were walking along the riverbank, while the waves lapping gently against the small shore were the only sound in the harsh morning light.  
  
"Look, Chichiue!" she suddenly said, pointing at something that had caught her eye. She ran over to take a closer look.  
  
There, bobbing gently against the bank, snagged onto some weeds that had been brought to shore, was a tiny figure of matted straw, shaped in the form of a human being.  
  
Ningyo???  
  
But how strange! Could it really be a doll? Sango slowly reached out with her tiny hand and--  
  
"Sango! Don't touch it!" she heard her father shout.  
  
With that, Sango awoke with a start, her heart beating fast.  
  
A ningyo, discarded into the river a long time ago. She had suddenly remembered that. She had also remembered what her father had told her.  
  
"When you see them floating by in a river or a stream, don't touch these things, Sango," he had said. "They were discarded by their owners for a reason, you know."  
  
And there it was.  
  
Discarded into rivers because they had been used in purification rituals to cast away the owner's sins.  
  
But if that is the purpose for those kinds of ningyo, why is Kimiko holding onto hers like that?! Sango felt a slight chill run down her spine.  
  
It jut didn't make sense…  
  
Sango turned to look at Kimiko's futon, and felt her heart freeze when she noted the blankets had been thrown aside, its owner not in her rightful place. She was not even inside the room.  
  
Why…that…!  
  
Sango could feel the blood rising hot and fast inside her.  
  
So there was going to be a second rendezvous, huh? She should have known that the lecherous houshi would not have been satisfied with the turnout of the first.  
  
She looked at Kagome and Shippou, noting that they were fast asleep. She sat up, debating whether she should go have a look or not.  
  
But why would she even care?  
  
Because, she thought, something must be wrong with a girl who keeps a discarded, bedraggled doll by her side and calls it by a name…  
  
It was all the reason Sango needed.  
  
*************************  
  
Gomenasai for taking this long to update this story! It took me a while to do some research into the Japanese doll, and while the actual dolls are very lovely and interesting, I have always thought that dolls are…well, sinister. But that's just me! Don't mind me! (  
  
Anyway, some interesting info about Japanese dolls which I have found in the Net:  
  
Dolls have played a very important role in Japanese society since ancient times. Originally made of white strips of paper (hitogata), sometimes a few leafs or twists of straw, they served to protect the owner from harm, absorbing any disease or ill fortune and thus helping to relieve the host of some of the fear that comes from dealing with the unknown forces of nature. These were kept close to the benefactor, sometimes being worn on the body, sometimes being kept in the family shrine. Often special prayers were written upon them giving them the function of both prescription and medicine. Periodically, these proxies would be purified by disposing of them through fire or water, allowing them to drift downstream carrying all accumulated evil with them out to the great expanses of the boundless oceans. These are the dolls that later evolved into the more modern day HINA.  
  
(I'm sorry--I got this from a web page but I can't trace the address anymore! Bad! Will try to find out and post in next update!)  
  
Hina dolls are actually favorites among Japanese girls and they are displayed during Hina Matsuri.  
  
If you would like to find out more about this, please visit Judy Shoaf's page about the history of Hina Matsuri--Girls Day Festival in Japan. Please go to: http://web.clas.ufl.edu/users/jshoaf/Jdolls/hina.htm#celebrate  
  
for more information. 


	6. Suzuko's Ningyo

**Beloved**

by

Nana

Chapter 5

**Suzuko's Ningyo**

_Beta read by Kaerra_

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**Author's Notes: **Hi minna-san!  It has been a while, but yes, I will finish this story soon! The end is in sight!  Thanks for inquiring after this story!^^ Reviews are very welcome!

**Special Thanks: **to Kaerra, whose comments and suggestions helped make this fic more than what it was at the beginning!

**Disclaimer: **Much as I'd love to, I don't own Miroku and Sango.  I guess I can say I created a certain evil doll youkai named Suzuko. Some kind of major achievement, huh?!  Heeheehee!  

***************************

Kimiko stood under the sakura, not heeding the petals the wind had carelessly tossed all around her. Above the branches of the trees--half obscured by drifting cloud-- the baleful moon cast a dirty, pale light upon the dark land.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," said a girl's voice behind her as a shadow emerged from behind the trees.

Kimiko tightened her hold on the straw doll at her breast, but she did not need to turn to recognize who it was. Sometimes, Suzuko would appear to her like this--as a girl apart from herself, with long dark hair that fell straight down past her waist and smooth porcelain skin. At other times, Kimiko could only hear her inside her head.

Curiously enough, she had grown so accustomed to Suzuko that she no longer felt the prickle of unease she had at first experienced with her presence.

Kimiko had continued to frequent the riverside after Miroku-sama's departure from the village.  And even though he had entrusted her to the care of one of the more affluent families in exchange for his services, Kimiko had derived a strange comfort from hearing the murmur of water by the riverside, and was often seen walking along its edge.

And so it happened that she chanced upon the tattered doll one day, floating haplessly near the riverbank. For some strange reason, the sight of the doll had pierced her heart and filled her eyes with tears. It reminded her too much of herself-- it had been as hapless and tattered and cast aside as she felt.

She had rescued it. She had no use for a wet, tattered doll, but she had dried it, and placed it in her closet.  And a few days later, Suzuko had appeared for the first time to thank her.

She was, she had explained, a doll spirit who lived inside the figure of straw. She had served to protect the previous doll's owner from harm and disease, and what did she get in return? Her previous owner had thrown her away as soon as the physical body of the doll had begun to deteriorate.

"But you are my new mistress now," Suzuko had said, light glinting off the surface of a pair of beautiful brown eyes as if they were made from painted glass. "I will protect you."

"I--I really don't need a servant," Kimiko had told her warily.

Suzuko had smiled slightly. "Alright, then. We can be friends."

And friends they did become. Kimiko gradually learned to overcome her initial wariness--a vague unease that bordered on some nameless fear--of Suzuko.  This strange aura--could it be she had it because she was inhuman?

In time, Kimiko found she could talk to her about anything.  Suzuko was constantly at her side, and even if she did not appear to her physically, Kimiko could still count on her to be there. As she began to trust Suzuko more, she found herself telling the girl all about Miroku-sama.

Suzuko had been indignant when Kimiko related the sad details of their parting, and it had been Suzuko who first suggested the idea of looking for Miroku-sama.

"You cannot let him get away with it," she had said.

That was how it started, and before long, she had convinced the timid Kimiko that the only way out of her misery was to find the one who had the largest hand in causing it.

Miroku-sama had made her so happy, but then he had to take it all away from her by going away.  He had to leave her behind.  It was tantamount to dying a little every day, and that was worse than all the casual cruelties she had suffered put together. Before long, Suzuko had made Kimiko regard it as nothing more than deliberate. He could not be forgiven.

But Kimiko had not been prepared to see the houshi again so suddenly.

Now, Suzuko was proven right yet again.  She had warned her not to lose her head when they finally tracked down the houshi. She was always right about these things. Revenge was a dish best served cold, and if Kimiko had really wanted to pay him back, then she needed all the cold and deliberate reason and will to help her. 

And yet…Kimiko had secretly hoped that after two long years, he would change his mind when he saw her. Despite the fact she dearly wanted revenge--to see him go through what she had undergone in his absence--she had also prayed that he had fared well these past couple of years.

Somehow, despite the fact that she was prepared to be disappointed, she still had it in her to feel hurt as he repeated what he said to her two years ago.

Suzuko, not being human, was fortunate not to have to pass through this kind of ordeal. She was fortunate enough not to understand the dark complexities of human love.

"Don't say I didn't warn you…"

Suzuko had warned her that becoming beautiful may not turn the houshi from his tracks.  Foolishly, Kimiko had thought it would be enough.  In the few days they had been together, hadn't Miroku-sama indicated he was pretty partial to the charms of beautiful women?

"The problem with you, Kimiko-chan," Suzuko said with a sigh after a long silence from her companion, "is that you are too indecisive."

"What…do you mean?" Kimiko asked hesitantly.

"Do you really want him?"

"…You know I do," said Kimiko miserably.

"You went about it the wrong way," pointed out Suzuko with a touch of impatience. "You thought you can make him change his mind by being beautiful. Well, we've tried that and I told you it wouldn't work. I told you to deal with it directly."

"Well, if that didn't work, what will?" asked Kimiko.

The girl behind her smiled--or did she attempt the semblance of a smile? Could her rigid, porcelain features withstand so much as a crack of expression?--and said soothingly, "I'm only saying you don't have to limit yourself to his expectations and desires. You can still get your beloved Miroku-sama, but on our terms."

"Can we…really?"

"Of course we can," said Suzuko. "I'm on your side, remember? Only, your plan failed because it was faulty. From now on, we will do this my way."

**********************

Sango rushed outside the house and onto the street, the chilly wind blowing sakura petals onto her face.

There was no trace of the girl…and no trace of Houshi-sama.  There was no trace of anything moving about at this ungodly hour.

_Kami-sama…please don't let it be too late…_

            She ran on, each step taking her out of the village, to the open field and toward the sakura. It seemed the only logical place to go--the place where it all started.

************************

            _Come to me, Miroku-sama…_

The voice was soft and irresistible, and the houshi took one step, and then another.  One foot brought down before the other brought him out of the house, onto the eerie quiet of the countryside.

            A tinkle of teasing laughter, as though made from glass, sounded from far away.

            _Come to me…I have waited for so very long…_

            And the houshi continued walking.  Past the last of the houses…past the fields…

            _I'm so hungry for you…_

            The fields opened to the sakura trees, and there underneath it, was the figure that had haunted his dreams for the past few days, bringing with her a bittersweet tinge whenever he woke up. The dreams brought with them an unusual sadness to the houshi, but he had been too skilled to let it show.

            A sudden, unexpected thought came into his mind just then. _But Sango seemed to have sensed it…_

With that, Miroku stirred from the stupor that held him in its grip.

            The figure stretched out her white hands languidly toward him as he approached.

            "Miroku-sama," she crooned; the voice was Kimiko's, and at the same time not hers.

            She came forward and wrapped her arms around his unresisting form, her fingers spreading greedily on his back.  Ahh…the feel of warm, living flesh…how long had it been since she had last touched it?

            And all the while she was whispering to him, "I knew you would come to me.  Sooner or later I know you would come back.  After tonight, we will never be apart ever again, my beloved…"

            Miroku stirred in her arms. "Kimiko…" he said.

            The woman went still at the sound of his voice.

            How could it be possible?  He should not have been able to talk now…

            She drew herself away just far enough to be able to see his face, and the clear violet eyes that stared back at her were alight with something very much like cold disapproval.

            "What kind of friends have you made these past two years?" He asked softly.

            Before she could say anything, he had torn himself from her embrace, was reaching into his robes.

            "Show your true form!" He shouted as he let fly an ofuda.

            The holy paper landed on the creature's chest, and Miroku heard Kimiko scream.

            She stepped back as great bouts of the ofuda's cleansing energy washed over her form.

            _Very soon now_, Miroku thought, grasping his shakujou and preparing to strike.

            But the moment did not come.

            Kimiko, unconscious but still alive, came out of the creature's chest halfway and dangled there like a rag doll.  The rest of her was trapped; the flesh of her lower body melding smoothly to that of solid, unbreakable porcelain.

            Miroku's eyes widened.  _The ofuda's spell…did not work all the way?_

A tinkling laugh sounded as the creature righted itself.  Hair shot out from its head, uncoiling as though it had a life of its own to its full length on the ground. The warm features of Kimiko hardened to polished, white china as the tips of her dainty hands grew into long, sharp points.  The tiny, ruby red lips cracked a cold smile at the houshi as its gleaming glass eyes stared at him. 

            Miroku's heart quickened at the sight of this spirit. There was no explaining its existence.  In itself, it was lifeless. A figure of porcelain powered solely by demonic will. A youkai feeding from the life source of its prey, using its victim as its shell when necessary.  Was it because of this that he had not been sure of its youki? 

            "Not only are you strong, Miroku-sama, but intelligent as well," it observed in a high voice. "I gather you have pieced the puzzle together. And I must say no mere human could have penetrated my sleeping spell enough to awaken against my will. Now, now, Miroku-sama. If you are really smart, you will take care not to make any more rash moves and endanger Kimiko further," the youkai added, in response to Miroku's sudden movement with the shakujou.

            He stopped. "Nani?" He asked harshly.

            "You have not successfully been able to separate us.  I'm afraid no houriki or special prayers from a monk can ever split us apart, especially as Kimiko wished this to be so from the very beginning," said Suzuko, the blood-red lips curling to reveal teeth as white and hard as pearls. "Any move you make with that stick on me will result in so much pain for her I doubt if she will be able to live--as it is, she doesn't really have much time, anyway."

            Suzuko laughed as she peered down at the unconscious girl, dangling limply from her chest like a useless appendage.

            "Humans are so useless," she continued. "She was willing to let go of herself to anyone's control.  In truth, that's the whole reason behind why she had wanted to look for you, Miroku-sama.  Because she cannot bear to think she had to be in charge of herself as long as she lives.  Pathetic, really. She did not even realize it as I took over her mind a little each day."

            "That doll…" bit out Miroku. 

            "Yes.  The doll was my body before Kimiko came along, and my spirit was formed from all the ills which my previous master had wanted thrown away."

            "Doll spirits," Miroku said as it finally dawned on him at last.  "You were used in a ritual of purification. You were a vessel of transference for all symbolic evil in a human--"

            "There was nothing symbolic about casting one's evil in a doll's body. Look what it has made of me," Suzuko said coldly.  "It was all real, especially when one knows what one is doing."

            "So your owner threw you away after transferring all her ills on you," observed Miroku. "What was she, then? A miko?"

            "A miko, an ordinary human being with her share of human failings--it does not matter anymore," said Suzuko, advancing toward Miroku. "Because you are here now, and I have use for a houshi with strong powers…Kimiko-chan wanted you, and I--I want you for reasons of my own…"

            Without warning, she glided sharply over to Miroku, terrifying in her fast and soundless advance. With a sharp intake of breath, he tried to dodge her, but already his legs were turning rigid, as though they had turned to wood.

_What is…this…?!_

Too late, he realized he had fallen victim to her enchantment as his body slowly turned numb.

"Love me, Miroku-sama…feed me…" she said softly.

She came forward, heedless of the ofuda--the last thing he still had strength to let go of to keep her at bay; heedless of the shakujou she knew he could not use; heedless of the kazaana she knew he would not use as long as Kimiko was alive and a part of her; heedless of anything but the need to claim him.

_"You will be…mine…"_

            Miroku felt her sharp, taloned hands grasp the back of his head, tilting his face up for the inevitable kiss, and as her cold hard lips closed down on his own, he knew this time, there would be no escape.

*******************************


	7. His Sango

Beloved

by 

Nana

Chapter 6

His Sango

_Beta-read by **Neko-chan**_

*****************************************

**Author's Notes: ** Miroku's flashes of memory in this chapter are spoilers from manga/anime scenes featuring Miroku and Sango, lifted from "The Lady in the Mountain" chapter in book 21, and from the more recent chapter "Corridor", in book 27.

******************************************

            Sango rushed through the open fields. The cold night air penetrated the fabric of her taiji-a outfit, sending chills throughout her body. Or did she feel the chill in her heart?

            _Knowing that lecherous houshi…_she thought, fuming.  

            It would not be the first time he would be caught in something like this, nor was it going to be the last.  Sango was not particularly sure if it were indeed a trap--after all, this could just be the continuation of a rendezvous with a sukebe houshi and a very human girl. But supposing it was, indeed, a trap? After all, he was particularly susceptible to the charms of pretty women. And especially, it seemed, to the charms of pretty women-youkai.

            After all, this was how Naraku had finally compromised his grandfather.

            _Just what is Kimiko up to?_  She thought, and was startled to feel her heart twist with bitter rancor.

            Normally, she wasn't like this. Whenever the houshi would blatantly propose to a girl in front of her, she would have the good sense to want to hit the houshi, not the girl. But this…this overwhelming feeling of bitter hatred inside of her was totally new and different.  To look at Kimiko, Sango was in danger of committing murder. The few hours she had gotten to know the girl had not exactly been pleasant for her. It had left her feeling bewildered and illogically angry.

            Kagome had felt it.  Hell, even Inu Yasha, who was a total klutz when it came to the more delicate sensibilities, had felt it. How could she possibly hide something as nauseating and abhorrent as the thing she was feeling? 

            What was it, to begin with?

            But that was something Sango did not allow herself to dwell upon.

            The wind was particularly strong just then, and as Sango neared her destination, it sent her a blast of sakura petals.  Too many petals swirling in the air, beating softly against her cheek, obstructing her view.

            She was nearing the trees now, and just then a powerful wave of youki hit her senses. 

There was no mistaking it. A youkai was behind everything, after all.

As the petals swirled away for an instant, she could see two dim figures a few yards before her, still locked in their embrace.

            The houshi was on his knees, his face tilted to that of the woman's, whose bent figure and long, dark hair hid his face from Sango's view.

            Sango gasped, abruptly pulling to a stop as she stared, dazed, at the scene she had stumbled upon. She did not say anything.  Indeed, she could not summon her voice just then.

            She had thought of this possibility. Of course she had!

Just a few minutes ago, wasn't she thinking of this exact scenario? She was prepared for such a thing, wasn't she? She should have been, but she was not.

            A part of her was suddenly sick--was mentally turning away just as another part of her could not help but stare.

            The woman looked up upon hearing a soft sound, and Sango felt the hair on her nape stand on end as she stood face-to-face with a creature that was not Kimiko.

            "The barrier--how did you--?" Suzuko began.

            _So she had erected a barrier, hadn't she?_ Sango thought grimly. Yet she had no difficulty breaching it. For a moment, Sango glanced down at the small rosary bracelet the houshi had given her some weeks before.  Then, as now, it had served its purpose well--it was Sango's one link to the houshi wherever he might be, barrier or no barrier.

"No matter," Suzuko said, a malicious smile bursting from her red lips--the very color of blood. She began to laugh that silvery, inhuman laugh as she let go of the priest.  Miroku slid down from her grasp, lying unconscious on his side on the rough, grassy floor.

            "Too late!" Suzuko cried amid peals of unbearable, soulless laughter--the very imitation of mirth. "You're _TOO LATE_!!!!"

            "_Houshi-sama!"_ Sango shouted, feeling the blood drain from her face. Acting from pure reflex, she swung hiraikotsu onto her side, preparing to release the heavy waepon.

            "Not so fast, Sango," Suzuko warned as she turned to her fully.

            Sango felt her gorge rise at the site of the unconscious Kimiko dangling obscenely from the chest of this impersonator.

            "Miroku-sama with all his houriki could not have done it, so don't waste your precious energy," Suzuko said. "Kimiko-chan will probably die if you try to separate us with that weapon of yours. But then, I 'm quite sure you'd be more than happy to strike back at her now, eh Sango?"

            "What are you talking about?" cried Sango.

            "Jealous, aren't you?" snapped Suzuko. "Madly jealous, and so very afraid you'd lose him, am I right?  You can't stand to let the houshi go. We feel the same way, you know, so I quite understand."

            "Don't give me this rubbish. You can't possibly know what you're speaking of," said Sango softly, dangerously. 

"Really?" Suzuko said. "Then you mean to tell me you never suspected at all? You were jealous to the point of wanting to kill, weren't you? Kimiko felt that way when she saw you with the priest. All I did was deflect it. To you."

"You--you did _what?"_ said Sango, outraged.

"Deflecting negative emotions is what I do best. It is the primary purpose, after all, of a ningyo. So you see, how can you possibly stake a claim for Miroku-sama, when even your jealousy is not entirely yours?"

            All this was said amid peals of silvery, almost mechanical, laughter.        

_So that was why--!_  Sango thought, dazed. And all along she had thought she was going crazy! Well…she wasn't going to let Suzuko get away with this!

            "Kimiko!" She heard herself say sharply. "Can you hear me? Snap out of it, Kimiko!"

            Suzuko's smile splintered into a look of rage. She said, "It's not going to do you any good.  She's so far gone she's not going to wake up any more. On the other hand…"

            She stretched her hand languidly behind her to the direction of the fallen houshi, and Sango was aghast to see Miroku slowly rise to Suzuko's silent command.

            "Come Miroku-sama," Suzuko said sweetly.

            The priest turned and did as he was told, and Suzuko drew her arms around him as he stopped in front of her.

           "My beloved Miroku," she crooned, fixing Sango a look of satisfied malice as she continued to hold onto Miroku tightly.

           Sango stood there, frozen, unable to take her eyes off the priest. There was no spark of recognition in those blank eyes. Nothing.

            "Kill her," sang Suzuko.

            What was it about things, that they could all go wrong at the same time? She felt as though she had landed into a scene from a nightmare.

            Sango stepped back as the houshi advanced toward her, his shakujou in hand. 

            "H-hou--" she began.

            He was not listening. Without warning, Miroku leaped forward and sent the shakujou straight at her. 

_"Aahhhh!"_ Sango screamed without knowing she did and brought Hiraikotsu before her as reflex kicked in. She felt the savage sweep of his staff as it crashed against her shield.

            He was close! So close and deadly!

            "HOUSHI-SAMA!!" she yelled even as a strange ache blossomed inside her chest.

            How could something like this happen? Had he fallen so deeply into Suzuko's spell that he could not remember her at all?

            A few feet away, Suzuko let out a tinkling laugh. "It's no good, Sango. Don't waste your time. Miroku-sama is mine now. He will not respond to anybody else."

            "Nani???" Sango cried.

            But there was no more time left for idle chatter. Sango turned back to Miroku just as he let go a series of blows with his staff. His movements were swift and fluid; there was no hesitation in his movements, no holding back.  The strength of his attack was a sure indication that he intended to kill.

            Sango tried to ignore the dull ache spreading inside of her. Shielded by Hiraikotsu, she drew out her sword.

            Even as a part of her knew that she may not be able to stand up to Miroku in a real fight--there had never been an opportunity for her to gauge the houshi's strength against her own--and even as something threatened to break deep inside of her, there was nothing Sango could do but to fight back. 

            After all, this was nothing new, was it? She had done this before; she had fought with somebody who meant all the world to her--she had fought a possessed Kohaku this way and very nearly killed him. But experience did nothing to stop the searing pain of a wounded heart.

            Thrust and parry, parry and thrust. Shakujou and Hiraikotsu were, for a few moments, equal as Sango adjusted to the houshi's technique. Their balance was tenuous at best, as Miroku kept changing his attack patterns to shake her off. The blows he was delivering were enough to send her to her knees, and still Sango stubbornly held on. And all the while, although she knew it was useless, Sango found herself calling out to him.

            "Houshi-sama…!" she panted. "Stop it! _HOUSHI-SAMA! _Try to remember!_"_

            _Kami…_was this what he looked like to all the youkai and adversaries he had fought with and killed? Was this the face they saw moments before he was done with them? 

            He delivered a particularly heavy hit, sending Sango sprawling.  Another savage swipe of his shakujou and Sango lost her grip of Hiraikotsu. The boomerang flew from her grasp as Miroku knocked the giant weapon aside.

            His arms swept the heavy cudgel down toward Sango.

            _CLANG!!!!_

            Sango' arms were trembling as she fought to keep Miroku's staff at bay with her sword.

            "_Stop it! Houshi-sama!_" she cried. 

            Behind them, the sound of unnerving laughter filled the air.  Sango could feel the rage rush through her brain, weakening her grip on her sword as Miroku pressed in.

            _Concentrate, Sango…concentrate…!_

            Sango gritted her teeth. Ooh, but she was going to enjoy pounding Suzuko once she could rip her away from Kimiko--!

But…

            _That's it, isn't it?_

Unexpectedly she turned to the waiting Suzuko and yelled, "Kimiko! Kimiko, can you hear me?! You have to stop this! Kimiko!"

            She was not sure if calling Kimiko would have any effect, but the answer may just lie with the girl.

            Suzuko let out a scream of rage.

            "Kill her!" she cried to Miroku.

            Miroku lifted the shakujou and twisted it around, effortlessly bringing the blunt end of it down onto Sango's hands. Sango winced as she felt the pain explode in her fingers. Another reverse fling of the staff sent Sango's sword flying as well.

            _WHIIIIISSHH…!!!_

Sango could see the shakujou coming for the final thrust, and did the only thing she could think of. With both hands, she grabbed hold of the cold metal of the holy staff before it could make contact with her body.

            "Houshi-sama…!"

            Sango winced in pain as she felt the spiked metal ring bite into the palm of her hand. Suddenly, he twisted it away from her grasp and withdrew.  

            It happened so quickly.

            One moment he was charging at her, the next moment he had roughly pinned her underneath him, his hand fisted around the collar of her suit. Sango could feel the sharp, metallic tip of the shakujou as he brought it to her throat. 

            _This is it then…_

            She would not be completing her mission with the group after all. There would be no chance for her to finally face off with Naraku, no chance for her to redeem Kohaku.

            Things would end here. Now.

            _Houshi-sama…_

She looked into the unchanging void of the houshi's eyes, and despair finally overtook her.

Who would have thought things would end this way? That her life would end painfully in the hands of Miroku, of all people?

Perhaps she had known all along that it was futile, this struggle to win him back. He was never hers to begin with. Perhaps he was really never meant to be. And if she had had any hold on him at all in the past, she knew now that she had lost him.

And yet she found she could not look away from his eyes--blank, violet eyes that looked startlingly like his, but not quite the ones belonging to the man she had known. With only a few minutes left to live, Sango would continue to look for Miroku in his eyes until she could see no more. 

But there were so many things that were left unsaid between them.  There was so much left to do.  When she thought of all the wasted opportunities in which she could have said all the things she had wanted to tell him…

Where would she begin? What would she have said first?

She would have wanted to say--

"_Mi--Miroku…"_ she whispered brokenly.

Miroku stared down at the girl. Had she just imagined it, or had Miroku's eyes widened just a bit?

_"…!"_

Something was stirring deep within him. He paused as he saw something glisten and fall from a corner of her eyes.

She was crying...

Her soft whisper penetrated the numbness in his brain, awoke sleeping memories--of a girl.  

A sliver of memory came unbidden of a crying girl who had looked down at him in a dark corridor full of youkai, as she bent down and told him--

_"NO!!! I won't leave you! I'd rather stay here and die with you!"_

She was so very familiar…who was she?

And suddenly the memories came rushing back, wave after wave of them--of a girl with long dark hair tied either loosely or in a high ponytail. Too many images were bursting in too suddenly--of her scowling, of her furious, of her asleep.  Haunting, vaguely familiar images of her rare smiles, of her deep sorrow…

And then there were brief snatches of words from near-forgotten conversations…

_"You would have been fine without me there…don't think I was jealous or anything…"_

Odd. He seemed to remember those words had made him feel disappointed. He had wanted her to be jealous. At least just for a bit…but over what?

She had not been the only one with words to say.

_"More than any other girl... having you worry about me makes me the happiest…"_

He had said that to her. He had, hadn't he?

Miroku winced as pain lanced through his head.

And there was more….

_"If in exchange this beloved girl can live longer, then...**I don't need my life!**"_

His beloved…S--Sa--

            "Sango!" he gasped as his thoughts gradually cleared and he finally realized who it was he had been so prepared to kill a moment before.

            But Sango was not wasting time. As soon as she noticed his hold on the shakujou waver and grow uncertain, Sango seized her opportunity.

            She was never one to give up on anything, and she was nobody's willing victim. Even the houshi was not exempt from this aspect.

            Quick as a flash and almost as though it were second nature to her, she knocked the weapon from Miroku's hand and brought the palm of her uninjured hand down savagely.

            "Snap out of it, you…you dumb houshi!" she shouted as her hand found its mark.

            _CCRRAA~~~AAACCCKKK!!!!_

The blow to his cheek sent the houshi sprawling from his position above her and Sango slid away from him quickly.

            _"Oof!"_

            Before she could regain her balance, though, she was thrown down violently by a pair of hard, cold hands. Long coils of hair looped and closed like a vice around her wrists.

            "No! _NO!"_ screamed Suzuko from above her. "He was mine…He was _MINE!_ You can't have him…we will be together forever--I must have him--- "

            "You're never going to do it!" yelled Sango. "I won't let you!"

            Damn it! But the youkai was simply too strong! Sango tried to kick, but her legs were meeting nothing but hard, cold porcelain.

            "You can't have him!" cried Suzuko furiously.

            "He does not belong to anyone! Least of all you!" Sango spat out as she struggled to get away. If only she could reach Hiraikotsu…! But it was too far away!

            "You are such a liar!" Suzuko screamed as she tightened her hold on the writhing Taiji-a. "Don't tell me you don't want him to love you--to kill for you--die for you--don't tell me you don't love him!"

            "If that's your idea of love you don't know what love is!" Sango gasped. "More than anything else, I'd want him to _live_ for me!"

            Suzuko had heard enough.

            "DIE!" Suzuko shrieked as coils of hair looped around Sango's throat, and suddenly she could no longer breathe. 

_            "Ki--Kimiko…!" _choked Sango, as she stared at the unconscious girl dangling a few inches above her. _"You can't…let her get…Houshi-sama…!"_

A low moan sounded as Kimiko came to.

"S--Sango-sama…" Kimiko said weakly, looking down at Sango as she remained suspended from Suzuko's chest. 

Kimiko gasped in horror as she came fully awake. "I--_Suzuko!!!"_

_"NOOOOO!!!"_ Suzuko gasped. "You can't possibly--"

"Let her go, Kimiko," said a voice calmly behind them. "You don't need her; you've never needed her."

Kimiko turned to the houshi as the tears slid down her cheeks. "Miroku-sama, I…"

"You can do it, Kimiko," he said quietly. "You're the only one who can."

"You wanted this…!" Suzuko shouted to Kimiko. "You wanted _him!"_

Kimiko began to sob. "I never wanted him _dead!"_

And with that, she gave a massive heave and she came apart from the ningyo's form, landing next to Sango on the grass.

With a faint scream, almost a despairing sigh, Suzuko's form slowly dissolved into the night air. 

Sango dimly felt the pressure of the taloned hands and the coils of hair disappear around her wrists and neck, and she lay there limply, clutching at her bruised throat and gasping for air.

_It's nearly over…_Miroku thought, fighting the waves of pain as they threatened to engulf his brain.

But there was one last thing to be done.

There, on the ground, was the tattered doll which carried Suzuko deep within. Miroku took out an ofuda and, breathing a prayer, fastened the holy paper onto the doll's form.

A wisp of flame started, gradually consuming the figure of straw. His task finished, Miroku turned to the women.

From Sango's position, Miroku's voice sounded very far away as she heard him approach and say something to Kimiko.  And then he was there by her side, lifting her slowly from the ground.

"Sango! Are you alright?" he asked harshly as he held her tightly by the shoulders.

Through the haze of pain and nausea, Sango felt a brief flare of irrational anger.

She pushed him away feebly, feeling her senses swim as she fought to stay conscious.

"Get…get away from me!" she whispered fiercely. "I--don't need--you--to--"

But already Sango's vision was dimming and she could no longer hold on. Miroku felt her hands relax and her head roll over onto his chest as she finally lost consciousness.

******************************

            __


	8. The Riddle of Her Heart

Beloved

by 

Nana

Chapter 7

The Riddle of Her Heart

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Author's Notes: Second to the last installment! This is going to end real soon, I promise!^^ While the manga/anime never alluded to its possibility, I have taken a little bit of risk in speculating that Sango would somehow be aware of Miroku's presence wherever he might be and vice versa. What do you guys think? Please do read and review!

Disclaimer: Kimiko's the only character that's mine. Whee. What fun.

***************************************

            Afterwards, Sango could not really say for sure what happened. 

Through the thick blanket of darkness that enveloped her, she thought she heard faint cries of alarm somewhere along the way, felt a cup being pushed to her mouth. Or perhaps all of these were just tricks being played by her tired mind as it slipped in and out of consciousness.

            She had not fought too hard when sleep rushed in to claim her. She had been too tired and she fell gratefully into the welcoming abyss where all things were of no consequence.

            Sleeping hard for the greater part of the day, she awoke to find that the sun was already setting.

            "Sango-chan!" Kagome's voice sounded from above her, relief and worry in her voice. "How are you feeling?"

            Sango blinked off the last vestiges of sleep, and found herself staring at the wooden ceiling of the inn, at her friend's face as Kagome hovered beside her anxiously. She was back in their room, back on her soft futon.

            "Kagome-chan…" she winced when she tried to move. She felt as though her body had been pierced and strung together by a thousand sharp pins, and she lay back with a gasp.

            Damn, but why did it feel that all her bones had been broken?

            "Just lie back," Kagome's voice sounded, and Sango felt a damp face cloth settling on her forehead. "We were so worried.  We woke up to find you gone, and then Miroku-sama came back with you and Kimiko…"

            Sango slowly, gingerly turned her head and found Kimiko sleeping in her futon not far away.

            "How is she?" she wanted to know.

            "She's going to be alright," Kagome said. "She wasn't injured or anything, but she was so drained she could hardly walk."

            "Walk…?" Sango asked faintly.

            "Miroku-sama was carrying you, so…" 

            Kagome trailed off as she took another towel and rinsed it in lukewarm water. She settled it on Sango's bruised throat.

            "Sango-chan…I--I know you must be tired, but I hope we can talk soon about what happened. Miroku-sama didn't want to give any details apart from saying there was a youkai attack," she said.

            "It was Suzuko," said Sango after a short silence.

            "Honto?"

            "Kimiko's doll was haunted after all. She used Kimiko to get to Houshi-sama…"

            Sango sounded as though she had wanted to say more, but she lapsed into silence.

            Kagome nodded to show that she understood. "I see," she said.

            _Do you, Kagome-chan?_ Sango thought sadly. 

            The early morning incident had wreaked tremendous damage. It had not yet begun to show in anything concrete, but Sango could feel its weight already pressing down on her--a heavy ache within her chest.

            Sensing that Sango would want some time alone, Kagome kept her thoughts to herself. She did not ask about the strange lacerations she had noted on her friend's hand, or the fact that she had noticed traces of blood on Miroku's shakujou before he took off for a purification ritual earlier in the afternoon. 

            From the look of his unusually grim face before he went away, Kagome was afraid that the houshi had been dealt the worst blow between the three people involved. After talking to Kimiko earlier in the day, he had not been back in the room to inquire about Sango. He had steered away from Inu Yasha's angry, provoking inquiries without so much as a word, and he had pretended not to hear Shippou's tearful pleas.

            It was most unusual of him, and quite frankly the houshi's behavior had worried Kagome. 

            There were so many questions, but Kagome felt sure that Sango had the key to most of them, including those plaguing the houshi. All questions would be answered in due time.

            "Are you up for some dinner?" Kagome asked next.

            "A little, I guess," Sango said.

            "It will be ready very soon. I'll get some for you then," said Kagome as she prepared to rise. "I'll come back to change your bandages in an hour's time. Right now you have to get some more sleep."

            Sango looked as though she wanted to ask some more questions, but she thought better of it.

            "Hai," was all she said.

            The room was suddenly very quiet when Kagome left, and Sango realized that she could not drift off to sleep anymore. She found herself staring at the tatami matting beside her. The last of the afternoon's rays filtered through the thin, translucent panels of the bamboo sliding door. Faded and mellow, the light from the dying sun seemed like an illusion.

            As surreal as the episode that had just occurred.

            _Houshi-sama…_

            Sango went very still as a voice whispered the name in her head, her eyes on the squares of fading light on the floor beside her.

            However hard she tried, she could not rid herself of a series of unsettling memories--the memory of a pair of deadly violet eyes contrasted sharply with that of a pair of strong arms wrapping around her, so safe and warm. 

            Had she just imagined him doing that? 

_No_, she thought, distinctly remembering him clasping her by the shoulders and asking if she were alright. 

Wasn't it so damned obvious she was not?

Sango sighed unhappily. Illogically, his concern for her and the way he had shown it had angered her beyond belief.

Well, what was she expecting?

_I'm not expecting anything from him, _she thought bitterly. _And if he thinks he has to treat me like some fragile flower like Kimiko, he's got another think coming…_

But this was so stupid! She was mad at the houshi for a variety of reasons--all of them in direct conflict with one another. She had not wanted his help, but a part of her had longed for him to be there for her. She had never wanted his lecherous attentions, and yet she couldn't bear the thought of seeing him flirting with other women.

Sango had never stopped to analyze what the feeling was, but Suzuko had given it a name: Jealousy.

But surely it wasn't! How could she possibly even feel jealous of women being chased around by a sukebe such as Houshi-sama? Women would have to crazy (or desperate) to actually want that kind of attention from a man, wouldn't they?

But whether she liked it or not, whether it had been deflected to her by Suzuko or not, whatever it was that Sango was forced to endure had somehow remained.

But why did it feel so close? Why did it feel as though…it came from within herself, by herself?

            Why??

            _I don't know, and I really don't want to know,_ a part of her whispered, annoyed. _I'm just so tired. So very tired…_

            She slowly, miserably turned around.

            What was going to happen next?

            _Houshi-sama…what are you doing right now?_

*************************************

            Sango turned slightly as Kimiko finally stirred on her futon.

            "S-Sango-sama…" she murmured when she turned to find Sango awake by her side.

            "Daijobu?" Sango asked.

            "Hai," said the girl tentatively. "You?"

            "I will be," she said.

            "Sango-sama…gomenasai," said Kimiko softly. "I never wanted to cause any harm."

            On her futon, Sango closed her eyes briefly, feeling the first stirrings of a headache. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear Kimiko's apology, but she found herself answering nonetheless.

            "It wasn't your fault," she said briefly. "A youkai took possession of you. That's not exactly an easy thing to fight against."

            "I know. Miroku-sama said so too when he came in to visit this morning. Still, if only I had not been so easy to pick on, if only I…"

            Kimiko's words ended with a sob, and Sango continued to stare at the ceiling.

            _So he had been here…_

            Finally directing her gaze at Kimiko, Sango said, "There is no need for an apology, Kimiko-chan. Really. I understand what you went through."

            "Really?"

"Kimiko-chan, after Houshi-sama left, you must've felt very lonely…"

            "Hai…"

            "Loneliness is not a crime," Sango continued. "All of us had to go through it at one time or another. Perhaps the hardest thing to do in the whole world is to live in it. At times, it can be frightening--there's no doubt about that. It is human nature to find someone or something to hold onto. There would be times, though, that you would just have to let things go. And you did it. You were able to let go of Suzuko…"

            "I was so scared," said Kimiko. "I wish I can be as strong as you are."

            "I didn't start this way," Sango said. "I had to go through so much in order to get to where I am now. There were times when I thought I would just break, but then friends came along."

            She paused.

            When Sango continued, her voice was very gentle. "If there is anything I've learned about life so far, it's an inevitable parade of entrances and exits. We can't always have the things we want. Being strong doesn't always mean you have to seize and grasp tightly. Sometimes, you can just open your hand and let go."

            Sango watched as a tear slide down Kimiko's cheek.

            "Gomen, Kimiko-chan," she said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

            "No," said Kimiko, attempting a watery laugh as she wiped the moisture from her eyes. "No, you didn't. I needed to hear that. It's just…it's just what Miroku-sama had said. He told me to give it some time, and then I would feel better. I believe him. Sango-sama…"

            "Hai?"

            "Promise me you'll take care of him."

            Sango's eyes widened. "I hardly think he needs any help in that aspect," she said.

            "He thinks so very highly of you," sighed Kimiko. "When you fell unconscious, he never let you go. I have a feeling you wouldn't either, if it had gone the other way around. That was the reason why you went after us, wasn't it?"

            Sango could not find anything to say to that.

            "You were worried about him, and you had every reason to be," continued Kimiko. "I'm just so glad you came."

            "Kimiko-chan…"

            Kimiko smiled at Sango. Although her eyes were sad, the haunted, strained look so evident before had gone. "I'm just so glad to have known you, Sango-sama," she said.

            "Me too."

            Sango meant it.

*****************************

            After a while, Kimiko fell asleep again, leaving Sango to ponder on their conversation.

            She was glad Kimiko had finally found a peaceful end to her quest, but it did nothing to stop her from brooding over the unresolved problem of where she was with Houshi-sama. What was more, the pain medication Kagome had made her take was slowly wearing off, and she could feel her injured hand throbbing.

            Slowly, gingerly, she sat up and started looking for Kagome's medicine kit.  She found it a few feet away by the door and once she made it there, she could not help but stare at the peaceful scene outside the room.

            There were some sakura trees outside the inn. The spring breeze, cool and inviting, was blowing some of the petals onto the wooden veranda just outside her door.

            She found herself making her way over to the edge of the engawa. As she slowly sat down on its edge, stray petals of sakura drifted down onto her lap. A few more went spiraling haplessly onto the medicine kit, onto her outstretched hand, and the realization that hit her then was enough to overwhelm her, bring her on the edge of tears.

            Could there be anything more symbolic of the utter lack of control humans have over their life? Sango wondered as she stared down at the petals on her palm. 

Could it be that despite all our efforts, human lives were nothing more than light sakura petals in the grand scheme of things? What was the meaning of having to struggle so hard every day to gain a measure of control over things if control were, indeed, just an illusion? When destiny dictated that things should be so, what was the use of struggling against it?

But like it or not, struggling was--and always will be--a part of Man's destiny. The idea of being strong enough to let some things go--it just wasn't as easy as the way Sango had described it to Kimiko. More than anyone, Sango knew what it was like to suffer the loss of people she had held dear in her life. And letting go was never easy…

She had told Kimiko to let Houshi-sama go, but if she had been in Kimiko's position, would she be able to do it?

            _Houshi-sama…_

            Would he stay forever as the riddle her heart could not solve? What was he to her and how could he possibly make her want to struggle to keep him close to and away from her at the same time?

            Whatever he was to her, one thing was plain to Sango. He had made himself so significant to her that it was useless struggling against the fact that she would always be aware of him.

            Like in this instant, for example.

            She didn't have to turn her head to see him. She already knew that he was there, standing on the other end of the engawa looking at her.

************************************

Vocabulary:  
Daijobu- Are you alright?

Engawa- wooden veranda of a Japanese house 


	9. Apology

Beloved

by 

Nana

Chapter 8

Apology

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**Author's Notes: **This chapter has been delayed for far too long. Too long, it seems, that it has lost its flavor following the appearance of manga chap 292 as well as various anime episodes that have shed more light into MiroSan and have clearly established them to have something more going on than before.^^ Anyways, I hope the contents of this chap is still applicable. Reviews are welcome, as always.

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, still don't own anyone (except Kimiko).

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            _I have to get away…_

            It was the only clear thought that he had had in the hours that followed after the incident under the sakura. It was the only thing he could think of as he turned the corner of the house and saw Sango sitting on the edge of the engawa.

            He did not want to think about her or see her now. Throughout the whole day, he had hardly had any luck trying to get her out of his mind.

            Worst of all, he could not stop himself from reliving the aftermath over and over again.

Sango's blow across his cheek had awakened him from the stupor that Suzuko had induced, but it was only when Sango had fallen unconscious in his arms that he realized just how terribly close he had come to killing her.

            "Sango…" he whispered as the horror of it all hit him. His grip on her shoulder tightened even more as he ran a hand blindly across her closed lids.

            _Forgive me…_

            He continued to hold her for a while longer as he struggled against the numb panic that was washing through him.

            The steady rise and fall of her chest reassured him somewhat, but her hand was bleeding. Already, dark bruises were showing on her pale skin.

How did this happen? What had he done?

This was the worst part of all--the fact that he could not remember specific details save one: he was sure he was directly responsible for inflicting Sango's injuries. 

He had come to his senses when she had slapped him. Groggily resurfacing, it was a nasty shock for him to find her pinned under him. Before that, everything had been a dark void until he heard her calling him--not by his usual title, but by his name.

_"Miroku…"_

His name on her lips. It had been too strange to be real, but he had no doubt that it was. 

Tears sliding down her eyes. How many times had he actually seen Sango break down and cry? Not many, but enough for him to make a mental note that it wasn't happening again. Not if he could help it.

And now…

_I'm so sorry, Sango…_

"Miroku-sama…"

He slowly lifted his head to find Kimiko trying to stand up.

"Can you walk?" he asked, his voice terribly calm.

"I think so," she gasped.

In the end, he had shouldered Sango onto his back, and allowed Kimiko to take his arm as they started back to the village.

It was already light by the time they got back to the inn, and Kagome and Inu Yasha were already awake. He had allowed Kagome to take over, had firmly avoided answering questions.

How could he possibly answer them all, when he himself had so many things to ask?

He would have to start from the very beginning then.

*************************************

            Miroku waited until Kimiko woke up during midday. He made sure she was awake before he entered the room. He was not exactly sure how his heart would take it if he were to see Sango so soon.

            Already, the numbness enveloping him was dissipating to give way to an excruciating pain at the mere thought of her.

            Upon entering, though, it was all he could do not to look away. Sango was still sleeping, and he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be relieved or worried at that.

            He turned to Kimiko.

            "How are you doing?" he asked softly.

            "Miroku-sama…" Apology trembled from her lips, and Miroku shook his head.

            "There is no need," he said. "It wasn't your fault. You know that."

            "Yes, it was," whispered Kimiko as tears slid down her cheek. "I was too weak."

            "All of us will have moments of weakness at one time in our lives or another," he said simply.

            "She took advantage of it," she said.

            "But you overcame her, Kimiko-chan," he answered patiently. "That's the most important thing there is. I would not have been able to exorcise her otherwise."

            They sat there in silence for a minute longer. 

            "Miroku-sama…"

            "Hai?"

            "_What_ was Suzuko?"

            "I was hoping I could ask you that, Kimiko," he said. "I've never really seen a youkai like her before…"

            But he had heard of stories of these creatures. Most peculiarly, he had heard some of these from Kagome herself. Around a campfire some forgotten night ago, she had stayed up to swap frightening stories of a being starved for blood--a creature with the ability to draw and hook onto victims by hypnotic trance.

            The creature's myth seemed to be quite popular in Kagome's time. Of course, she reassured them the creature was pure make-believe, belonging to the superstitions and imagination of a foreign people half a world away, but couldn't Suzuko be classified as a vampire in her own right?

            She didn't partake of blood, but what she had needed was a force just as essential as that fluid running in her victims' veins.

            _Love me… Miroku-sama… feed me…_

            Miroku closed his eyes and repressed a shudder of repulsion and reluctant delight at the memory of those words.

            Yes, he could remember the dreadful way those cold, hard lips had sweetly demanded and taken…the way they had wanted more.

            And he had been willing--more than willing--to give more…to do anything that being asked of him, even to--

            _Kill her…_

Miroku shut his eyes briefly as he remembered that honeyed voice.

            Even to go as far as kill somebody like Sango for her. In those few, insane minutes, he had not remembered Sango at all.

            _But you didn't kill her, and that's the most important thing there is_, a voice in his brain whispered, mimicking the reassurance he had voiced to Kimiko just a few minutes ago. Did it sound as hollow and unconvincing to Kimiko as it had been to him just now?

            There would be no collection of words sufficient to reassure and to comfort Kimiko, just as there was none sufficient as an apology to Sango when she woke up. And so, he said the only thing left to say to Kimiko.

            Kimiko did not cry as he murmured his farewells. She watched him sadly, and interrupted only when she felt he was going to tell her something quite impossible.

            "Don't," she said.

            "Nani?" 

            "I know what you're going to say next," she said quietly. "Please don't tell me that I can forget all about you in due time. You know it won't--can't--happen."

            Miroku smiled a little at her words. "I wasn't going to," he said. "I was just about to say…"

            He paused, and when he continued, his voice was very soft.

            "I was just about to say that I would like to be able to think of you thinking of me …as good friends will, from time to time. Can we do that?"

            It took a while for Kimiko to recover, and when she did, she nodded her head and smiled.

************************************

            Making peace with Kimiko had been the easiest part, thought Miroku, sighing. The hardest part was yet to come.

            How was he going to face Sango? What was she going to say?

            The mere thought was enough to make him shudder. She was going to be angry, needless to say. Or sad and disappointed, which was even worse. He was afraid he wasn't going to have any chance to say anything before she finished with him, and he did not want to start.

            He was simply too drained right now.

            And dirty. Dirty in a way no amount of water could wash off.

            The purification ritual was going to take a while. As he settled below a waterfall near the village to cleanse his body and his mind, an earlier thought arose to take hold of him.

            _I have to get away…_

            The more he thought of it the more convinced he was that it was the right thing--the only thing--to do. He was sure the others would not think so. Perhaps Sango may not think so; but then, he did not want to think of her just now.

            _Tonight then…_he thought as he made his way back to the inn. He had to do it while the others still had no inkling of what he was about to do. Doubtless, they would go after him, but this time, he would take care not to let them find him.

            He had no idea where he was going, but he had to go.

            The sun was setting when he got back to the house. The cool evening air carried with it a distinct chill.

            _Quite appropriate,_ he thought grimly as he made his way to the sleeping quarters.

            As he rounded the corner of the house, the sight of Sango sitting on the edge of the engawa made him stop. Curiously, he felt as though the wind had been knocked from him. He was not prepared to see her.

            Then and there, he realized the futility of all his intentions of removing himself. He knew he would not be able to do it. Not when Sango was here.

            Dimly, he realized that all his struggles to keep his distance from her would end in defeat. As if he needed any evidence, Sango chose that particular moment to turn her head to him. 

He had not made any sound, made no indication to reveal his presence, and yet she had not needed any of it to know he was there. She had been aware of him instantly, just as he would always be aware of her.

Too late to retrace his steps, he went forth to whatever was left in store for them both.

******************************

            She saw him approach as though in a dream.

            "Sango."

            His voice was real enough.

            "What are you doing up?" he asked as he sat down beside her. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

            She felt his gaze land on her injured hand briefly and she saw him look away.

            To be truthful, Sango did not know what to think or feel when Miroku came. By all rights, she should be angry at him--angry that once again he had compromised himself (and others) because of his weakness for women, angry that she had to be dragged into the whole mess, angry that he had to make it so obvious she was nothing to him. 

            She knew it was quite illogical because he was being controlled at the time, but the sight of his blank eyes beholding her with no recognition at all had filled her with bitter disappointment.

            She had planned to be angry, but now…now that he was here, all accusations, all feelings of resentment vanished in a flash when she saw him glance at her hand and look away.

            She could feel the hurt inside of him as though it were palpable. When she saw the look of determination fleet through his gaze just then, she grew almost afraid.

            _What is he thinking of right now?_

            "Kimiko said you've been in to see her," she heard herself say.

            Miroku glanced back at her and said nothing.

            "She said you've said goodbye," she said.

            He waited for her to continue.

            "And I don't seem to recall us moving along anytime soon," she finished. "What are you going to do, Houshi-sama?"

            Miroku gazed into her brown eyes, too surprised to say anything.

            "What's going to happen later tonight?" she asked, her voice betraying the slightest of trembles. "Are we going to wake up just like the last time to find you gone without a word tomorrow?"

            What was it about Sango, Miroku wondered briefly, that she could sometimes tap into him just like that without any effort at all? Was it empathy springing from mere camaraderie, or was it something else? Something more?

            He had let Kimiko go with a promise that she would be in his thoughts, but in Sango's case, would mere memories do?            Now was the crucial time to deny everything, to try and put her at ease. But he found that he could not do it. 

            "And if I did disappear," he found himself saying instead, "what is to be done?"

"How very convenient for you," Sango said dryly. "Of course you should know that I won't allow it."

He stared at her, surprised. "Why not?" he asked.

_Why not, Sango? Why would you want to detain somebody who would have wanted to kill you, no questions asked?_

It wasn't merely the incident with the ningyo that had left Miroku shaken. Suppose…just suppose Naraku knew of this; how would the fiend use this to his advantage? If one youkai could have done it, how much more…

"Because," said Sango quite clearly, "you are my friend. And I won't let you go. I won't let you run away from yourself."

This, said in that no-nonsense tone of hers, without heat or embarrassment, and the look that she gave him that forbid any apologies, moved him unbearably.

            "Should I leave, what will you do?" he asked softly.

She gazed at him steadily as she said, "I'll find you. No matter how long it takes, I will find you. And in the meantime…"

"In the meantime…?"

"You must learn to forgive yourself as well," she said, her gaze on the quiet garden before them.

           With those simple words, the last traces of the invisible wall he had been building to insulate himself in crumbled and fell. What was it about this girl? He thought. She had found him when he was lost and brought him back from the brink of annihilation…

            He had hurt her, nearly killed her, and in exchange, she had said she was never letting him go.

            Faced with such obstinacy and an overwhelming tide of wordless forgiveness, Miroku felt himself give in. In the long time that he had known darkness, could it be that he would find the light in Sango? After all, hadn't she saved him more than once from himself?

            There was still a long way to go before there would be any form of resolution with Naraku. There was no telling what was going to happen. But for now…

            "Houshi-sa--_what do you think you're doing?"_

His fingers curled around the wrist of her injured hand, gradually sliding to twine her fingers against his and giving her no opportunity to withdraw. His grip was firm, silently insistent that she not shield her palm with her fingers.

Sango sighed in exasperation. She briefly considered tugging her hand away, but he would probably stop her. She was aware that the houshi was going to be obstinate. So she kept her hand still as he scrutinized the wound.

The bleeding had stopped, and thanks to Kagome's medicinal ointments (antibiotics, she called them), it was on its way to healing, but the swelling and discoloration around its edges were still clearly evident.

"It hurts, doesn't it, Sango?" He asked softly.

_Well, yes, now that you're asking…_

She was about to say no when he lifted her palm and carefully pressed his lips to the wound.

Sango stared at him in shock, not bothering to pull at her hand when he finally lowered it from his mouth. Without another word, he took out the bottle of antibiotic and a roll of gauze from the medicine kit and began to dress her wound.

She had not allowed him to apologize, and he had not allowed her to get away with it. The wordless kiss was apology enough.

As she watched him wind the strip of gauze over her palm, she asked, "what was that for?"

"That's me telling you that I'm not going to let you get away too," he said, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. "I guess that we'll be on each other's cases for some time to come."

"I guess so," she said, and gave him a rare smile.

"Would you like to eat?"

"Hai."

He helped her up gently, and together they ambled over to where the familiar smells of dinner wafted.

********************************


End file.
